


The Boy at the gates

by Shadow_Hole



Series: Gates [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Pining Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Hole/pseuds/Shadow_Hole
Summary: All Merlin has ever seen of the Prince are his appearances on the news and the breathtaking photos on the magazines.All Arthur has ever seen of The Boy are his weekly visits at the palace gates, messy hair, and rucksack on his shoulder.Merlin has his secrets, Arthur has his duties.They don't know each other but take every small opportunity to watch. To look.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Gates [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809466
Comments: 46
Kudos: 217
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Merlin has a secret.

Well, he has many, of course, like any teenage boy.

The most dangerous one out of all of them is that he has magic.

Alright, so maybe not exactly like any teenage boy.

According to his mother, Hunith, the day Merlin was born his eyes weren't the bright blue of today. Instead, they had shone bright gold and didn't turn to the normal color until a few days after his birth. After that, Merlin had shown that he possessed a power that no one could truly comprehend.

So that's his first secret, one which his mum always warned him to keep as such.

The second secret, like the first one, is something that only his mother is aware of, this time not because of her request.

He didn't choose to stay in the closet out of fear, he knows that every one of his friends would either be happy for him or completely indifferent, not caring whether he liked boys or girls that much. He just didn't think it to be something necessary or important to declare. He wouldn't lie if someone were to ask his preference of course, but no one ever did, so his sexuality remained a secret.

His third secret, this one even his mother didn't know of, is tied to the second one.

"Mum!" Shouts Merlin when he comes home after a day of school, taking his shoes off and being glad that tomorrow would be a Saturday so that he could rest. "I'm home!" 

After hearing a "Hi, Merlin! This week's magazine is on the kitchen table!" he thanks her, quickly grabs the booklet, and goes to his room, throwing the bag he had been carrying on his shoulder on the floor.

He had told his mum that he had subscribed to the Avalon Magazine because of a school project that he and his class were working on about the Royal Family. Naturally, he couldn't tell her the real reason, that was part of his secret. Still, knowing that he will have plenty of time the next two days to study, he flops onto his bed and opens the journal, excitement bubbling in his stomach. He flips through the pages, looking for anything new concerning the Royals. One of them in particular.

For the last two weeks, no articles were made about them. There had been no new scandal from the Duchess of Cambridge, Morgana. No statement from Queen Ygraine or her Consort Uther. No news about the new Royal Baby, Mordred, nor about his parents, Morgause and Cenred. And most importantly, no new leaked photos of the Crown Prince.

To be honest, Merlin wouldn't know half of those names if he hadn't spent so much time on the magazines lately. Everyone knows Queen Ygraine, obviously, but her consort? He isn't King, so if Merlin were to ask his classmates, half of them probably wouldn't know his name.

Merlin is about to give up on finding something that might interest him, just like he had done last week and the week before that when something catches his attention.

His breath catches in his throat.

_oO0Oo_

If someone were to ask him where this all started (and please don't) he would have a hard time pinpointing an exact moment. Probably there wasn't one.

After all, growing up he always saw the Royals on the TV, not only that, but his house is very close to the Palace in which they lived. Every time he went to school and later came back home, he could see the building out of the bus window, standing behind a giant park. On Wednesday, he stayed at school for two more hours to get some extra lessons on the subjects where he was the most uncertain about. This meant that he had to make the forty minutes trek back to his house with his own two feet. (this happened on other days as well, when he missed the last bus because he got distracted for one reason or another) On those days, he got to see the Palace from up close, always giving a smile to the guards standing at the gates. Not that they cared much.

Merlin watched the nicely decorated windows and always wondered who might be standing behind them.

All this said Merlin couldn't remember when exactly he had started looking for more pictures of the monarchs and the Crown Prince. 

Granted, having a crush on Arthur Pendragon wasn't probably that shocking of a secret. He could tell that many of the girls in his school suffered from the same affliction (how else was he supposed to call it) and compared to his first one, it would probably sound lame. 

The truth of the matter was that Merlin would sooner share his first two secrets with the entire world than tell his third to a couple of friends.

Magic was cool after all, who didn't love Harry Potter? As far as he knew there were only a small number of sorcerers left in the world. He would become famous across the globe! He would meet up with the most powerful men and women alive and could be introduced to celebrities. If he was lucky, he might be invited to meet with the Royals! He could even see and _talk_ to Arth-

We're getting off track here. Point is, revealing his magic, albeit dangerous, could be amazing!

And again, no one knew he was gay, but not because he was scared. Even if there might have been people with something against that, they could bitch and moan to someone else, he wouldn't care.

All things considered, being known as a powerful gay wizard wasn't that bad of a prospect.

Having a crush on _Arthur Pendragon_ , though...

Yea, absolutely not a thing he wanted people to find out.

Maybe having a family and a group of friends made up mainly of anti-monarchist played a part in his insecurities. That was also the reason why all the articles on Arthur were kept hidden under the mattress, while the rest of the magazine was thrown in the trash. 

And it's not like Merlin knew this man personally, even though the number of articles he had read about Arthur could make him feel like he did. The boy knew what was being written was likely to be mostly fabrications to make the Prince look good in the eyes of his future subjects. No one so high up in status could be so good-willed as Arthur was being portrayed. He was probably a right prat in real life, used to have everything he wanted to be handed to him on a silver platter.

This fact didn't take his looks away from him, though. (Or maybe the pictures were photoshopped. No, take away the 'maybe'. A mere human couldn't resemble a greek God so closely. That would simply be unfair)

While he couldn't recall when this stupid crush started, he did remember when he had decided to buy his first copy of the Avalon Magazine. It was, like the rest of this situation, quite embarrassing. 

He was in his history class, seated next to Gwen and Vivian and the girls were skimming through a red booklet. Merlin hadn't meant to be spying on what they were doing, Gwen was his friend after all, but then his eyes caught a picture of a certain Prince, right in the middle of a page, and from then his gaze kept flicking involuntarily from the board to the girl's desk.

"Vivian and Guinevere, if you would be so kind as to pay attention," Monmouth's voice came from the other side of the class and captured their attention immediately, "could one of you two take that magazine to the trash outside? I needn't remind you again that this is your last year and need to concentrate, do I?" This made a couple of students laugh and Gwen, who unlike the smug-looking Vivian appeared to be somewhat guilty, rolled up the magazine before Merlin could read the name of the cover walked to the door to do as she was told.

And now comes the embarrassing part where Merlin's inexcusably ridiculous arse decided that when the lesson was over, he would look in the trash can outside. He had never felt so stupid in his entire life, but on the other hand... 

On the other hand, he had discovered that every week, the journal would share something new about the royal family. After buying the first copy that Friday, and seeing two new photos of a shirtless Arthur, Merlin didn't think twice before subscribing.

This all leads to today when after two weeks of uncharacteristic silence, Merlin is finally looking at a picture of the Prince.

And _oh Gods_ , Merlin has to sit up for this... Arthur got himself a beard. It isn't even the groomed and well-kept beard of the Prince's cousin Leon. His heart leaps in his chest as Merlin takes in the condition of his hair. It looks messy and unkempt as if he had just put his head out of the window of a racing car. That, added to the stubble on Arthur's chin, makes him look more natural than any of the pictures Merlin had seen of him. More approachable. And that domestic attire is doing _things_ to Merlin's still fluttering heart, stomach, and even lower in his groin. 

" _God_ ," he exhales, breathless.

In the photo, Arthur is standing just outside of the by now familiar Palace, in nothing but a plain red t-shirt and blue jeans, looking as though he was searching for something far in the distance.

Merlin glances at the details that are always written beside the picture, like where the picture was taken and when, and he freezes once again.

Just under the location, he sees the day and the time of the shot and he has to check again to confirm that he wasn't mistaken. But he really, really isn't.

'Wednesday the 13th, 17:40'

It had been two days ago, and Merlin feels like crying because this, is completely unfair.

On Wednesdays, he always finishes school at about five in the afternoon and arrives at home at fifteen to six, always stopping for a few minutes half of the way through, hoping in wain to catch a glimpse of something behind those windows.

He remembers clearly that the day before yesterday, he had stayed far too long in front of the gates. When he had checked the time he saw that he would have been late if he hadn't started running right that second. He had simply nodded to the guards and sprinted away.

Merlin closes the magazine and stands up from the bed, running his hand in his own unkempt hair. 

If he had only waited five minutes more... maybe even less, it could have been only another few seconds.

He could have seen that gorgeous man with his own two eyes, not through a screen or printed on cheap paper.

Merlin could have finally seen the man that had lived in his dreams and fantasies, and Arthur could have seen him. Granted, it would have been no more than a quick, board glance at a schoolboy with an old backpack and too large ears, but _still_.

Merlin opens the magazine to the page he was looking at and flips through the next ones to be sure that that was all regarding his Prince. In the end, that was the only thing he was interested in.

Merlin takes a pair of scissors from his messy desk and carefully cuts the two pages on the article, putting the rest aside. He takes the second page, where a close up of Arthur's face had been printed in the top right corner and takes it with him when he lies down on the bed again. He traces the lines of the man's face, first with his eyes and then with the pad of his index finger. He has accepted a while ago that he was being creepy. He had stopped caring when one particular night he couldn't fall asleep and took the completely insane decision of jerking off to one of the best photos of Arthur he had ever seen. That picture had been hunting him since that Friday when he had received the latest copy of the Avalon Magazine.

He had felt horrified and guilty right after he had finished and had quickly hidden the photo to its place under the bed. Mortification had caused him not to look at neither of them for the following week. But Friday had come again. And after seeing the picture of the Prince right there on the cover, Merlin had resigned himself to the fact that apparently, this would be his life now.

He had pushed the guilt away using the excuse that many others had probably done the same, so it couldn't be wrong.

With those thoughts in mind, his right-hand wanders lower on its own accord and Merlin starts palming himself through the fabric of his trousers. He feels himself grow hard in a matter of minutes and is about to take unzip his jeans when the clang of something falling on the floor reminds him that he isn't alone in the house.

He lets out a groan and stands up from his bed, now irrevocably horny and feeling uncomfortable in his tight boxers. Merlin puts his new photos away with the others, promising himself that he will continue later that night.

_oO0Oo_

Arthur looks at the clock yet again, just to turn and look at his laptop to continue working on his college essay due to Friday.

Normally, under similar circumstances, he should have been more productive, but the constant pressure from his father didn't make it any easier.

A couple of weeks ago, he and his family had been told to stay inside the house and try not to attract any attention. His parents were the only ones with the whole story, but of course, they didn' tell him anything. Just to concentrate on his degree until this 'situation' was dealt with. 

Arthur had talked to Morgana then. Like him, she hadn't got the full story at first. After she threatened to go out at a party in London that weekend if her parents didn't tell her what was going on, though, they told her that there was a possibility of a magical attack directed at someone in a position in power in the United Kingdom. And while the Parliament was the most protected at the moment, Royalty was also under constant surveillance. 

With all his free time Arthur is conscious that he should have finished this damned essay. His well-hidden nervousness isn't helping, he gives himself this excuse at least. Plus, today is a Wednesday and it's almost five in the afternoon.

See, his entire life has been already planned out for him. He knows what to expect because he has already been told what the day will bring. Sometimes it feels like the only thing that he chose for himself were his studies. 

Having something unexpected and out of his control is an experience he never thought he could have.

So that Boy is a very small, but important relief.

Granted, at first, he had been somewhat unnerved by his presence. It seemed as if he was looking directly at him through the window. He was more than used to having people come at the gates of his house gaping, taking pictures of the building and the poor guards, so this particular kid shouldn't have been any different.

And yet he is. First of all, he has never taken a picture of anything. If he had, Arthur hadn't been there to see it. He also didn't bother the guards. Never tried to talk to them while knowing full well that they wouldn't answer. Every time he saw him arrive and leave Arthur noticed him giving them a kind smile and a nod.

Arthur talks to them sometimes, knows how people probably see them as a decoration and nothing more. It's nice to see some people acknowledge them and their work from time to time. He is also sure that the guards appreciate it as well.

The Boy arrives at about twenty past five every Wednesday and stays there for five minutes, looking at the building. Sometimes, Arthur sees him earlier in the afternoon on other random days as well. Even if it didn't happen often. It still brought him an element of surprise in his otherwise dull day. For this reason, he has taken the habit of standing behind his bedroom window for a few minutes every afternoon. He needed a break anyway and this was a great excuse.

Arthur has accepted a while ago that he was being creepy. He had stopped caring when one particular day he had had a particularly terrible fight with his father. Uther was not delighted by the fact that his son had decided to frequent a public university, breaking the tradition and becoming the first heir to the throne to do so.

He had grown so tired of the ever-reoccurring argument that he was about to throw everything to the wind. And yet he didn't. He had gone to the window instead. Arthur wasn't sure what, but something made him go there. Like a weird compulsion or a sixth sense.

And there The Boy was. In the exact moment Arthur pushed the curtains aside, he had reached the gates and smiled at the guards as per usual. Arthur remembers letting out a sigh and all his anger and impulsiveness flowing out of him. A smile slipping on his face for some reason. The Prince still doesn't know what is it about this Boy that makes him stand out of the literal crowd surrounding him. There was just something about him. And even though Arthur still can't quite put his finger on it, he knows that he owes this kid the studies that he chose and loves. That day, Arthur had stayed at his window until The Boy had taken the last enraptured smile at the building (why did it feel as though he had been looking at _his_ window for a bit longer than the rest?) and left after smiling once again at the guards there. 

Arthur had continued doing the same since then. Feeling as though he was having a silent conversation with him, even though the boy couldn't see him behind the slightly separated curtains.

Each day he visits, Arthur feels their non-existing connection getting stronger. It is bordering ridiculous. The line had probably been already crossed. 

Still, it's almost time, so Arthur stands up from his desk after closing his laptop and walks to his usual spot by the window. Taking his break. He is surprised when the raven head arrives mere seconds later. He is almost ten minutes early. The Boy seems to notice as well, looking at his watch and smiling at Arthur.

The Prince shakes his head. 'He isn't smiling at you, bloody hell. Stop being so ridiculous'. He watches as The Boy steps closer to the gates. He then looks at the guards, silently asking for permission as he leaned against the iron bars. When he doesn't get manhandled out of the way, he smiles broadly and seems to say something to the men. Knowing him, he was probably thanking them.

It takes a couple of seconds for Arthur to catch up with his own thoughts and when he does, he pales and treads his fingers through his longer-than-usual hair and lets out a groan.

'You don't know him, Arthur! And he doesn't know you either. Keep it together, you complete idiot'

When he lifts his gaze again, The Boy is looking right at his window. This time, Arthur isn't making it up. Just when a shiver starts making its way up to his spine, The Boy has already moved onto the next one.

As all the nervousness of the day starts to wash away, Arthur feels himself smile. The Boy is staying longer than usual. The usual five minutes have already passed.

Suddenly, Arthur feels a tug at his heart pulling him towards that Boy. His eyes widen as he realizes that it wasn't the by now emotional pull he refuses to admit he feels to this stranger. It was an actual, physical pull.

He doesn't know what's happening. What he does know is that he can't remain there. It would be wrong. He has to get away from the window. Away from the window so that he can descend the stairs and go outside to meet The Boy.

His memories become fuzzy from then. He remembers going down the stairs and the extremely long trek through the halls of the maze he called home. He remembers hoping to God that The Boy wouldn't leave. He needs to see him face to face. He also thinks he remembers a loud crash from upstairs and some shouting. That isn't important though. He needs to keep moving, he can't stay in the same place for long. So he remembers walking again, never lingering behind the windows. For some reason, it didn't feel right to stay near the windows. The moment he does, the pull becomes stronger and he has to continue. When he finally reaches outside, the first thing he notices isn't the shouts and the sound of shotguns. That, he doesn't notice until later. What he sees is that The Boy isn't standing at the gates. 

A wave of disappointment and sadness washes over him quickly replaced by worry, as slowly Arthur takes more and more of his surroundings in. Is The Boy alright? Had he been hit in the crossfire?

Crossfire? With that last word, Arthur comes back completely from the trance he had been in and whips his head around. The shouting had ceased and there were no more gunshots. Someone was laying on the ground, a pool of blood forming under him and reaching the shotgun just beside the body. Before slipping inside as quickly as possible, Arthur whips his head around to look at the front of the building.

Even if it shouldn't be possible with the kind of glass those windows were made of, Arthur could see that one of them had shattered. Narrowing his eyes, Arthur saw that that window was _his._

The one behind which he had been standing no more than five minutes before.

Arthur felt like throwing up.

_oO0Oo_

And he did.

Throw up, that is.

Just after he had been asked, "What the hell he thought he was doing outside?!".

He had explained what happened in detail. Except for one. One detail concerning That Boy. He had explained that all his memories were fuzzy and all he thought about at the time was to get away from the windows. Which wasn't a complete lie, and ultimately, a very useful idea, since the bullet-proof window didn't appear to be so bullet-proof after all. To be fair to the poor window though, after some analysis experts ("Experts? experts on what? Magical bullets?" Arthur had asked. Uther didn't answer) magic had been involved, aiding the attack.

Luckily, there hadn't been any direct witnesses aside from a photographer, who had to swear to never reveal the context behind the few shots of Arthur she had managed to get. (One couldn't get out of the house for a minute, honestly.) The pictures had already been sent to her employer and had already been printed out by the time they had found out. She had been smart enough not to say anything about what happened.

Arthur is now clearly under lock and key, in a room deep inside the Palace and far from any windows. Honestly, he hadn't complained or put up a fight. He was very much glad about being alive, and he would like for things to remain as such. Thank you very much.

One thing he couldn't keep away from his mind though was The Boy. While tossing and turning in his new bed, chasing sleep, Arthur couldn't help but think about him. Even if unknowingly, The Boy had actually saved his life. Arthur doesn't know how it happened or if it had been his intention. 

Now more than ever, Arthur wants to meet him. To talk to him. To _Thank_ him.

And now more than ever, it was impossible.

He slips in dreamless sleep, a young and cheerful face in his mind.

_oO0Oo_

It had been months since that Friday.

And now, Merlin had been forced to reveal his first secret to the entire world. 

One positive thing out of all of this is that it had been one of the most exciting ways Merlin had thought his reveal would have gone. A fight to the death was quite exciting, right?

Oh, Lord, his mother was going to kill him for putting himself in such danger, but on the other hand, what could he have done? Let it happen?

No, definitely not. And not to Arthur. That was out of the question.

During the past months, the Royal Family hadn't made many public appearances, which had been enough to spark the imagination of quite a few conspiracy theorists. They hadn't been that wrong, in the end, all things considered.

There had been an announcement on the News a week before the event. Arthur and his family (because that is what his brain heard) would be out in the open again to celebrate someone getting married... or something like that. He didn't particularly care, so Merlin hadn't paid attention to that part. 

Weirdly enough, the guards of the Royal Residence had started keeping people away from the gates a couple of months prior. Now the reason behind this appeared clear enough.

Merlin had expected to go to the Palace, see Arthur and then go straight home. Easy enough.

Things are never easy, keep it in mind.

Merlin had been right in the middle of the crowd. Simply looking at Arthur with what was probably considered a dreamy look on his face. While his hair had been groomed and cut to a shorter length, the prince hadn't got rid of that wonderful beard of his. Merlin had been certain that there had been at least ten ladies in his line of sight that had stared at this particular detail as well. Merlin _hadn't_ felt irrationally jealous of the fact. 

If it hadn't been for his magic, he wouldn't have realized that something was wrong right away. After that weird tingling sensation that was always a sign that something was wrong, everyone around him had seemed to freeze. As if under some sort of spell.

At the moment, Merlin doesn't remember the exact events that had transpired, no matter how many times people asked him. What he does remember is the sensation of sheer panic that coursed through his veins. The panic, he later realized, was his magic telling him that Arthur was in danger. As he keeps telling all these stern-looking officials, the next thing he sees after the wave of magic had hit the crowd, was the entirety of the royal family looking at him. They had been mostly unharmed, but the shock had been visible on all of them. 

(He didn't tell these officials that he had practically only seen Arthur, the rest left ignored. And, God, the pictures weren't photoshopped, after all, were they? The man is an actual deity. His features even more perfect from up close)

In the end, he learns what happened thanks to his mother, whose face is filled with worry. They are in what Merlin thinks is a hospital, but with some very weird machines that he doesn't recognize. ("They are used to check on how your magic is acting after its use" Hunith had explained. And Merlin almost felt guilty)

Long story short, the rumors of someone hiring a magical mercenary to kill the Royal Family hadn't been completely incorrect. As they speak, what remains of the magical community is doing everything in its power to find the possible culprit.

If it hadn't been for Merlin and his magic...

"You'll have to meet them, you know," says his mother after ten minutes of comfortable silence between the two, "naturally not soon. You have to recover and the royals are still in hiding somewhere secure at the moment. But once all of this is settled, you'll have to be officially rewarded." His wide-eyed expression didn't stop her from continuing, "We'll also have to register you as a warlock," She sighs, "this is part of the reason I wanted to keep it hidden Merlin, you surely understand now. The amount of power you showed will not be ignored."

Merlin's mind is still focused on Hunith's first statement, though.

 _Oh Lord almighty_ he would meet Arthur. 

_Bloody Hell_... He, Merlin... He and his magic had saved the Prince's life.

Merlin takes a breath and tells his mum that he is feeling tired, and would like to take a nap.

("Love you, mum", "I love you two, Merlin, you can't imagine how much. Please, don't put yourself in danger like that again", "I'll try not. I'm sorry", "Merlin. I'm proud of you sweetheart")

He might have shouted in his pillow for a second. He tells himself that all things considered, he is allowed to have such a reaction.

As Merlin closes his eyes, actually trying to get some rest, Merlin thinks of one of the few memories he has of the day before passing out.

It had been Arthur's beautiful, blue eyes. They had been looking right at him and showed actual awe. And it had been directed at _him_. And they had kept looking, watching. Until the rest of the world had come crashing down on the both of them.

The Boy sighs, head rubbing against the cushion and heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

Yea... All things considered, Merlin has every right of acting as excited as he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Modern!AU fic!  
> I hope it isn't cringy... God I feel like it's cringy, hopefully, it's all just in my head.  
> This really looks like a prequel to a larger story doesn't it? Well, it is in my head, but I doubt that the idea will ever touch paper.  
> Anyway! My plan is to write more for the ScruffyPendragon fest. I have three more ideas, so there will be more this month... Probably.  
> I talk to much I know.  
> Have a great day :)


	2. Chapter 2

The room was as dark as usual- the torches not strong enough to reach every corner of it.

The woman stepped inside, taking a moment to glance at the others seated at the long table before taking her place at its end.

"Is everyone here?" was the only greeting she granted.

"Muirden, Alator and Sefa are still on their way," answered a blonde lady sitting to her right, "and I'm sure I don't need to tell you that Helen won't be able to join us. Not today, not ever again."

"We are here to talk exactly about this- as you have all heard, I hope,"

"Weren't we here to talk about the boy?" This time, the answering voice came from her left. "What Helen did was none of our concern. It was a decision she took outside of the Community."

"That may be true, Sigan, but you know as well as I do that the leaders couldn't care less about why this happened. She was part of the Community and, as such, under our responsibility. _My_ responsibility,” she sneered, glaring daggers towards the man who had talked and sending a look of distaste at the feathered jacket he was wearing. "As for the boy, I've already sent some men. They have talked to his mother, who has agreed to have him registered."

"It is shameful- the way she was keeping him hidden," another stepped in, "truly deplorable. And cowardly. Not only that, but it put the boy in danger. Who knows what would have happened if all that power hadn't been discovered-"

"As I've said before," the woman interrupted, “we mustn't worry about him, everything has already been arranged. The situation is under control."

"Is it though?" This time, everyone turned around to watch the person who spoke up- an old man, leaning against the wall and looking at them all with a faint hint of amusement. "Come on, you all saw what happened. Everyone did. We know that he is no simple sorcerer. Making him and his mother sign some papers isn't going to help."

Before anyone could answer, the doors opened again. A girl strode in along with a man, both with an aura of confidence around them. The girl walked faster and stood taller than the man, yet they walked in step.

"We apologize for making you wait, Nimueh," said the man, his face almost completely scarred. "Sefa and I were waiting for Alator to arrive, but they informed us that he won't be able to make it."

The woman- Nimueh- tore her gaze away from the old man who had spoken and gestured the newcomers to their seats.

"Of course. Did they tell you the reason for his absence?"

After sitting down, the man answered. "No, only that he will soon speak to you directly later today."

"Very good, Thank you for informing me," she said in a tone that hinted that, despite her words, she wasn't pleased. “You didn't miss anything of importance, just mindless chatter.” She turned to glare at the old man, who simply smiled at her smugly. "I think you know why I asked you to come here."

"Helen," said the girl, also sitting down now. She didn't look up, preferring to keep her gaze on her crossed hands on the table.

"Helen," Nimueh nodded.

"I don't believe I need to ask if any of you were aware or complicit in her actions," asked the man adorned in feathers.

No one answered.

He leaned back in his chair. "Shame."

"Sigan!" Exclaimed an old lady in the back.

"What?" he asked. "If it wasn't for the laws of the community, I would have erased that line of succession long ago."

"We have made peace with the Pendragons, we can't go against our word now," Nimueh said, coolly.

Sigan scoffed.

"This is not the topic of discussion," the blonde from before raised her voice, interrupting the background conversations that had formed. “This is serious, and this meeting will already be dull as it is. Let us not make it longer than needed."

"Exactly. We have to remember that someone needs to take Helen's place in our council. Do we already have a possible substitute?"

"There are some members of the IMSD who could be suitable, I believe."

"What are you saying? No one from there is powerful, or even experienced enough to take a seat here."

"Naturally, but we also have to consider the fact that no one from outside that department has the skills required for this role. If someone wants to take her place-"

"They will need to have a strong Signature..."

"Precisely.”

The room was silent for a couple of seconds.

Nimueh shook her head, looking exasperated. “You cannot possibly tell me that there isn't a single soul in the Community who possess a Signature magic that meets the requirements!" When there was no response she shook her head once again. "No, it cannot be. I distinctly remember at least one of the IMSD members who was strong enough to pass the tests,” she said firmly.

"You must be thinking of Freya Bastet," said the blonde woman who had spoken earlier. Her eyes flashed gold, and a picture of the girl appeared over the table. “She was very young but powerful. She was actually being trained to take Helen's place if need be."

Nimueh considered her words. "Was?" she then asked.

"I thought you were informed?” Upon getting no response aside from a raised eyebrow, she continued. “She disappeared two months ago, only to be found dead in her apartment a few days later."

"Why hasn't this been brought to my attention?" Nimueh asked vehemently. “I am to be told of such things!"

"You were supposed to be- the Disir was informed and they should have told you... we were made to believe you knew."

Stunned for a few seconds, Nimueh kept her gaze on the floating picture, before speaking again "I will ask them what happened, later. Right now, we are left with no one to take Helen's place." She let out a sigh. "Furthermore, there is another problem that we need to solve today. One of our sorcerers is required to be of service to the English royal household by the end of the summer. She or he will have to be chosen at once since they will need time to be trained."

The information caused everyone to straighten up. 

Sigan's eyes flashed with outrage. "What? They want themselves a pet wizard now? Their safety is none of our concern. If they fear they shall be targeted again, that is their problem, not _ours_ ,” he spat.

Nimueh didn't answer. "Whoever it will be, they will need to be very powerful, as they won't accept anything less." the last few words were uttered as if they felt bitter on her tongue. "Strong enough to be seated at this table. And it would be best if they actually were." She prepared for what she was about to say next. "I wish it to be so. I think it should be one of us."

"Nimueh," said the blonde woman instantly, "You know as well as we do that that will be impossible. Everyone in this room has duties that cannot be put aside just to be the royals’ watchdog. And I doubt any of us would lower ourselves to such a level."

"I second that sentiment," said Sigan, quickly.

"This just means that we have to find two people fit for two very different positions. Positions that require skills impossible to find in such short notice" said someone from the edge of the table. "Bloody fantastic."

"What if we only need to find one?" asked Sefa, looking at the others around the table. "Maybe whoever we find strong enough to join the Council will be able to fill out the duties for the Pendragons."

Nimueh considered the suggestion for a while. Then, she nodded slowly. "It will depend on who it is we find, but it could work."

All of a sudden, a laugh resonated through the hall. The old man, who had stayed silent for the duration of their conversation, was slowly clapping his hands.

"Oh, well, I figure this way three problems will be solved in one move, won't they, Nimueh?"

Sending him a glare that could probably- no, definitely- bend metal, Nimueh answered with another question. "Three?"

"Oh yes, three birds with one stone," answered the man, before chuckling at what must have been a private joke. "Even if you insist on him not being a complication, you cannot deny what everyone saw. The boy is powerful. Powerful enough to send a Signature of his magic to save the Prince, while defeating a member of your Council _without even realizing it_. All of this with no training whatsoever."

"What you are suggesting is... impossible," said the blonde woman.

"Is it, Morgause?" Asked the old man. "I find it to not only be reasonable but also the only solution available right now."

"You'd place this _kid_ into one of the most powerful councils on the planet? And, at the same time, make him work as the official magical protector of the royal family? A kid who will receive barely three months of training for both tasks? A kid who finishes _high school_ this year?"

"I would in an instant, and advise you to do the same. Believe me when I tell you that it is in his _destiny_ to be at the Prince's side."

"The destiny of a kingdom would rest on the shoulders of a young boy..." Said Nimueh, wary of the choice she'll need to make.

The man simply bowed his head in answer.

Morgause glanced at the others. "Well? What's his name?"

Nimueh summoned the- still incomplete- folder she had been working on with a silent spell. She flipped it open and threw the picture like the first one. It stopped mid-air and began hovering directly above the centre of the table, just as Freya’s had done. Unlike her, however, the boy was all sharp angles, innocence and laugh lines.

"Merlin."

  
  


_oO0Oo_

Merlin raised his head from where it was resting on his right palm, only to switch to his left one. He shook his arm to get the blood flowing back into the limb, which had fallen asleep after thirty minutes of being used as a stool.

He watched as his mother checked the last box on one of the many sheets of paper in her hand, and decided that it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a couple of seconds.

"Merlin! Focus! You have to put your signature here, here and... right there." Hunith handed him the papers just before Merlin could act on that decision. Deciding that life wasn't fair, Merlin straightened up and grabbed a pen to start signing them. Just as the pen touched the first form, however, his mother slapped his hand. "Merlin!" She said, firmly.

He dropped the pen in surprise and clutched his assaulted hand in the other, a betrayed expression visible on his face.

"What?!" He asked, incredulously. " _You_ told me to sign the sheet!"

Hunith let out a long-suffering sigh. "Merlin, always read the things you sign. You must read the fine print."

Merlin spluttered a second before looking down. "Oh come on, you told me to _sign_ them, not _read_ them! You’re never happy, not even when I follow your orders!" Merlin gave an overdramatic huff and crossed his arms, so to let his mother know that he was just joking, quirking his lips for good measure. Hunith just sighed again- a smile tugging at her lips- before gesturing for Merlin to sign the papers.

"Come on, my dollop-head, read them while I continue looking at all the..." She hesitated a moment before reading the title of the next set of documents. " Terms and conditions,” Hunith finished.

Merlin did, understanding finally part of the reason his mother had chosen not to divulge his powers to the world. He had never felt so utterly bored in his life. And he had been in a group project with George Brass, of all people. A group made of the staggering number of two participants.

Several days had passed since his magic had been revealed to the world. Once he had watched the footage, Merlin had hoped to regain some of his memories from that day. Yet nothing had changed, and looking at the video feed only seemed to distance him further from the events. It was more like watching a movie. A _very_ low-budget movie, but a movie nonetheless.

After he had gotten out of the hospital, he had been told that he would soon be welcomed to the Palace for an official meeting and thanks from the Royal Family. Supposedly, arrangements should have been made. Lessons on how to behave, what to wear, how to speak- but so far, nothing had happened. He and his mother received no further instructions from the officials and had been left to just wait.

Had it been someone else he was supposed to meet, Merlin would have been content with this arrangement. Truly. Being photographed and shown to the whole country was not his cup of tea. But the circumstances were quite peculiar, were they not?

He sighed and let his mind wander away from what he was reading- which really wasn't as hard as it should have been because lately his thoughts always seemed to drift back to his unfortunate and _very_ impractical crush. It was a good thing that he had been excused from attending school for the first two weeks following the attack. Merlin let out a sigh, remembering the moment the Prince had set eyes on him. He wondered what he must have looked like to Arthur. Not that any of them had had the time to look for long. 

With all the chaos that had been around and his sudden loss of consciousness, even the slight glimpse they had gotten of each other should have technically never been possible. Based on his luck, though, Merlin doubted it was something as romantic as fate. It was probably just a cruel trick- A peek at the Prince, only for him to be taken away forever.

Merlin longed to see him again. For Arthur to know of his existence.

Merlin groaned internally, both for his rather embarrassing thoughts and the fact that each passing day kept making the possibility of meeting Arthur- properly, this time- shrink considerably.

Thinking that, in the end, his mother wouldn't let him sign anything dangerous, he scribbled his signature on the blank space at the bottom of the paper he had failed to read and moved on to the next.

At least there was this distraction to keep him busy. He was bored out of his skull, sure, but he _was_ busy. The existence of both emotions simultaneously was quite a paradox; that Merlin truly had no interest in figuring out. It probably had something to do with thinking of George, anyway. George has that effect on people.

As his mother had told him after he had woken up from the hospital, his stunt hadn't gone unnoticed from the Magical Community, which had reached out to Hunith right away. Very soon, after all the paperwork will be checked by whoever checks the paperwork when said paperwork has to be checked, things will change drastically.

Before the summer begins, someone will be sent to their home each week to see the extent of Merlin's powers in person. During the summer breaks, he'll be sent to the other side of the Globe for several weeks where he will 'learn to control his powers' or whatever it was that they said. It probably didn't matter that Merlin already had full charge over his magic. He would know if it suddenly burst out and did as it pleased. It never had happened. Well- except for that day, but that doesn't count!

"You've been staring at the same point on the paper for several minutes now, Merlin, don't think I haven't noticed.”

Merlin shook his head and muttered an apology before starting to not read again, this time making sure he wasn’t as obvious about it. Once they finished with the task, his mother told him to stay home to study while she took the fruits of their patience to the post office.

It was a good thing that the school had let him stay at home after everything that had happened; he wasn't sure he could have handled everyone there. The hushed whispers he knew would come every single time he entered a classroom. And then there were his friends. 

Oh, had he not been scared to face the ones the closest to him. They would have had every right to be angry- if not outright furious- with Merlin, who had kept such a secret from them.

At first, when he was at the hospital, he ignored the calls from Will, Gwen, and Elena, giving himself the excuse that it wasn't a great time and that he needed to recover, just like the doctors kept telling him. Then, once he returned home a couple of days later, he couldn't bring himself to answer them, thinking of all the times he had shut them out before. It was a rather ridiculous way of thinking and acting, as he was well aware, but his nerves pushed him further into the hole he had dug himself into.

In the end, they had taken the situation into their own hands and just presented themselves at his door one afternoon. Each of their reactions was... different from what he had expected. While they weren't happy he had kept his magic hidden, they weren't angry with him either. Maybe a bit when he had declined their calls, but that's beside the point.

Gwen was mostly worried about the accident and what'll happen next, Will kept claiming that his magic tricks with the cards were better than anything he could ever hope to do, and Elena just wanted to see him making stuff float. They had chatted for a couple of hours after drinking the tea his mum had made for them. Afterwards, at least one of them made sure to visit Merlin every day, both to check in on how he was doing and to lend him their notes from school.

All things considered, it had all gone pretty well.

And really, who cared if he couldn't meet that damned Prince? Merlin was the first one to admit that all these teenage crushes were just something people would chuckle about once they got older. Time to put this infatuation in a box, close it and forget about it.

And yet, the Avalon Magazine didn't stop being delivered to his home, and each and every time he had put his mind on cancelling the subscription, he failed miserably.

Never mind the fact that there was now a picture of him right next to one of Arthur. How in the name of sanity was he supposed to forget, when there would be a constant reminder of what Merlin had involuntarily started to think of as rejection? Not receiving a single letter, not even one just saying maybe ‘hey, thanks for saving the Prince of England lad, really appreciate it.’ Being completely forgotten when this was probably the most important thing he will ever accomplish in his life? Yeah, it was very uncool.

Earlier, before going to sleep, he made up impossible situations in which he could meet Arthur on the streets randomly before they promptly and impossibly fell in love. Now, his mind conjured up scenarios in which he was welcomed to the Palace he knew so well by now, to be thanked and acknowledged before they… well promptly and even more impossibly fell in love.

His mind wasn't that creative with the endings it invented.

So, while he kept saying that he didn't care about recognition and 'all that stuff', he was feeling quite sullen on the inside. And petulant. Sullen and petulant. 

Which, in his humble opinion, seemed quite justified.

What kind of spoiled prat _doesn’t even send a postcard._ God.

Either way, weeks flew by. Way faster than he thought was needed, but the passage of time didn’t seem quite concerned about his opinion and kept on, utterly relentless. His last day of school was blessedly chilly, with storm clouds out to shield the students from the heat of the sun. He spent that afternoon out with his friends, having lunch at a Japanese restaurant, and later chatting in a nearby park. Merlin was happy, with no worries in his mind. He had truly put aside everything that had happened and forgot about the invite that never came.

Most of his friends left by early evening. Merlin returned home late, having had dinner with the few that had remained.

"Mum!" he called from the entrance. When he received no answer, he closed the door behind him and searched around for her, "mum?"

As Merlin stepped closer to her bedroom, he heard her voice, "Naturally- of course, but he's just- No, I know, but how can you possibly believe that a boy could be capable of such a task? And with such little time to prepare, I- wait, how much did you say? no, it still doesn't change anything! He finished high school today, for crying out loud!" A pause, " I see... Alright, I'll- yes, alright. We'll read them together. I know, I know, I should have a long time ago. I will talk to him. Have a good evening."

When he heard her put down the mobile, he knocked gently at the door, and asked again, "Mum?"

His mother turned around right away to look at the door. "Oh, Merlin, I didn't hear you come in!" There was a stack of papers in her hands, which looked to be in a sort of disarray.

"Who were you talking to on the phone just now?" he asked stepping in.

"Oh, that?" she looked at the phone lying on the bedside table, and then turned to him again, "I think we should sit down to talk about this." She answered.

And so Merlin did, alongside his mother, who took a deep breath. And that worried him. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep him from asking again.

Probably noting his concern, she smiled sweetly and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad, I assure you. Just startling." When he lifted his eyebrows in question, she continued, "It's about the IMC- they sent us your results, you could say. As they have already informed us, you'll have to take a course during the summer. Thing is, you’re apparently quite a special case." While Hunith was talking, she handed him the papers she was holding, but kept a small envelope that had been at the bottom of the pile to herself. "Once your training ends, you'll take a very important position in the Community. It's all written on there, so you can have a better idea of what you'll need to do."

Merlin only had to read halfway through the first page to feel his blood run cold.

"Mum, it says I'll have a place at the High Council..."

She simply nodded. He shook his head.

"No... it's impossible. I'm seventeen mum!" He told her as if it wasn't already blatantly clear what the problem was, "Shouldn't I need... oh, I don't know, years and years of training and experience before sitting at one of the most powerful stations of the Community?" Merlin felt his voice break at his last words.

Hunith just pointed at the papers he was currently holding so tightly they had started to crinkle.

"That's what I thought at first as well. Somewhere in there, it's mentioned that normally that is how it works, but as I said before, you are a special case, Merlin. Your magic is something rare in of it itself, but the power you possess is unheard of," she closes her eyes and strengthened her grip on his shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but as if she was still trying to protect her son and finding out she wasn't able to, "There are many terms I don't know or understand, but I am sure they'll teach you everything there is to know and what is so special about your magic." The smile she gave him was full of sadness, but encouraging in a way as well.

"Still..." Merlin says, "even if I was capable of doing what they ask... what about college? What about my degree and what about my job?" he asked frantically, realizing just now some of the consequences this could bring.

"Well, first of all, you could decline the offer, if you really wanted to. Secondly, you will be paid for being part of the council. If you decided to accept, it would be a proper job, and won't have to find another one," she paused a second, "lastly, after the initial training, the time you'll spend at the Council itself won't be much at all, and you'd still be able to get a degree. Granted, you'd have to work harder and it could take a little more time, but you still could."

Even though he was still unnerved at the prospect, Merlin felt his heart beginning to return to its normal rhythm.

His mother lowered her head to look at the envelope and turned it over. When he saw the sigil right on the cover his heart started beating faster again, "This other position is what will occupy the majority of your time, though. From what I've managed to read so far if you decide to accept the position at the council, you will be expected to take this one on as well."

At last, she handed him the letter with the Royal seal, which Merlin could only stare at, without actually opening.

"While everything is explained in those documents to the finest detail, this letter is the official invite. I figure they waited to reward you for your actions until everything else was decided and ready."

Suddenly, all the thoughts and emotions that he had pushed to the back of his mind with strain came back rushing to him and Merlin felt breathless.

"Mum?" he asked yet again, "What... what position are you talking about?"

His mother looked at the envelope as if she would have preferred for him to read it directly and not hearing it from her. Still, he kept his gaze firmly on her.

"If you decide to accept the offer the Community is offering you, you are expected to also take the government's. While the Community is international, they have made a temporary agreement with our country. The reasons were not stated here, and I guess they won't tell you unless you sign the contract." She lowered her hand from his shoulder. "If you do, Merlin, you'll be placed as a personal magic guard to the palace and, more precisely, to the Royal Family."

For a moment everything disappeared, and it was just him and the strange pull that he had come to associate with his magic. Since the day of the incident, he had felt it change. Now, the pull was always guiding him in the same direction. Although he had told himself he didn't know exactly what it was he was directed towards, Merlin knew exactly what it was he was directed towards.

As the world started to come into focus again, he realized just what this would mean for him.

He glanced at his mother before looking at the envelope in front of him.

If he gave up the future he had planned for himself... If he chose to take this wild leap in the dark... If he actually made this ridiculous decision. If he accepted this…

_ Arthur. _

Merlin took a deep breath and broke the crimson seal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of things I have to say so be prepared...  
> first of all, the next part of this fic will be on a different work altogether. I already created the series if you are still interested in the story. I am doing this because this work was made the Scruffy Pendragon fest and the rest of the story won't have anything to do with it.  
> Next thing I wanted to say is, sorry it took so long to upload this chapter, it has been ready for a week or something, but I have had some complications. No worries tho, this means I have already started writing the next part.  
> Lastly. The verb tenses changed between chapters. why is that? Initially, when the story was a small one shot, I decided to write in a different way than what I am used to... to get out of my comfort zone. Now that the story is longer, I'll just stick to what I find easier.


End file.
